


Walls of Night

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 01:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20368597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Celegorm knows the Sinda has no real power to do anything to them.If it wasn't for his brothers trembling next to him, and the Sinda smirking, he would be utterly convinced this was a dream.After all, that made more sense than a Sinda somehow dragging their souls along with his to this cursed place.





	Walls of Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SWG’s 10th Birthday Celebration in 2015. 
> 
> Prompts used listed at bottom.

“Hello.”

Celegorm barely resisted the urge to jump that ran through his body. He had to be dreaming, and yet why would he dream of that damn Sinda? He was not guilty of Finrod’s fate, no matter what it ended up being. Finrod had made his own choices, and –

Curufin appeared next to him, staring at the Sinda as well. Then Maedhros, and Maglor, and so on until all of his brothers were there, and all of them staring around.

The Sinda was still staring at them.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Amrod said, clutching at his twin and Caranthir, while he spoke in all of their heads. Well, technically not all of their heads, though that Sinda was now smirking at them as though he could tell what they were saying. But that was nonsense. He couldn’t, and this was all at dream.

What was that Sinda’s name, anyways? Something that reminded him of Celebrimbor’s name, no matter how much that should be forbidden. The Sinda was still smirking, and Maglor and Maedhros were looking at him with something like fear in their eyes. Unsure, perhaps. Even in his dreams, those two hesitated and the twins trembled.

“Did your brothers tell you that they spoke against Finrod, my lords?” The Sinda looked towards Maedhros as he spoke, though his eyes darted towards where Maglor stood in front of the twins and Caranthir.

Maedhros didn’t even bother to question which brothers, which was slightly insulting. It wouldn’t be, if it wasn’t for Maedhros’ inherent nobility or whatever else nonsense he was thinking of. Just because dear Fingon wouldn’t appreciate it…

Celegorm finally realized that even Curufin was being silent. Glancing at his brother, he realized he was staring in fear at the darkness that was over the edge of the wall they were on.

“This is just a dream, brother. Even if it’s not, the Sinda has no real power.” Celegorm muttered to him.

The Sinda smiled widely at that. “I believe your brother is more afraid of where we appear to be, regardless of me.”

“And where are we, Sinda?” Celegorm snapped, causing Maglor to glare at him, while pressing the twins even closer behind him. Maedhros tensed as well, while Curufin continued to stare.

“The Walls of Night, of course.” The Sinda glanced behind him from where he dangled on the wall. “Perhaps this is all fake, and I have no real power. Or perhaps…”

Celegorm felt dread rise within him at the shapes rising in the darkness. Elenwë – no, a trick of the Sinda’s, not even Morgoth could deny any Noldo their place in the Halls. Other shapes too, including a short elf that drew close to the Sinda, smiling faintly before fading back.

“My Uncle,” the Sinda said. “My amil’s brother, if you care. He was known as Denethor, and was killed leading his people in support of Thingol. This echo of him still visits me here, at least.”

“You dare speak Quenya?” Curufin said, still pale but back to Celegorm’s side at least. The rest of their brothers still refused to come closer, even Caranthir.

“Do you ask because my King banned it, or because you think I am undeserving?” He raised an eyebrow. “Regardless, I speak it because Galadriel wished to share at least some of her past with me. Regardless, he was exactly that before Morgoth’s servants killed him.”

“Elenwë wasn’t killed by one of Morgoth’s servants, though.” Celegorm wished he had his sword with him. What was one more dead elf, if it meant they could escape?

“Did I say they were all that? No, this is beyond even Morgoth’s control. It is hostile enough that even he only flees through here when he has too, and even then he is beset from all sides.”

The Sinda was still smirking, and Celegorm felt himself becoming angrier. “And yet you dangle off the edge of the wall near those things without a care in the world.”

“Perhaps I have done nothing to them, and have nothing to fear. How would you fare, my dear Noldor? Would you make it even past the gate before you were besieged? Would you make it until you ran into your cousin again?” The Sinda seemed amused.

“Elenwë is too timid to do anything,” Celegorm replied.

“Perhaps.” The Sinda raised his head to stare right into Celegorm’s eyes. “But what of Argon? Or Finrod? Or the future cousins that will die because of your quest, or the hubris that surrounds you all?”

“You lie,” Maedhros said suddenly, desperately suddenly, and the image floated through Celegorm’s mind of Fingon lying trampled in the middle of battle. It was sickening, the smell and the sounds and the blood everywhere, as though his body was laying in front of them instead of only in Celegorm’s mind.

He shook his head to dispel it, and started forward, finally coming close enough that he could have laid hands on the Sinda. But they passed straight through him, and the Sinda merely smiled. “Nothing will stay us from our quest. Not your enchantments, or whatever sights you show us here, nothing.”

“Indeed. You cannot escape from what I show you, yet you will not be stopped from your plans. Your brothers could have been, if the two of you weren’t so desperate to cling to whatever glory you think there is in this quest.”

The Sinda moved from his spot on the wall. “And I could leave you here. Even without reality, your minds would be destroyed in this environment quickly enough. My people may have a chance to survive, and your cousins might.”

Curufin was by Maedhros now, refusing to let go. He knew as well as Celegorm that if they let Maedhros talk, oath or no other, he may agree to lose his mind just to save Fingon. But this was all an enchantment. The Sinda had no way of knowing this, and they would succeed.

Celegorm shook his head. “Let us go.”

“As you wish.” And the Sinda nodded, and it was as though they were falling. The twins were screaming and Maedhros was staring into the distance as though everything was his fault, while Maglor refused to look at anything but Caranthir falling right next to him.

Curufin appeared to be plotting, still pale and shocked, but already trying to prepare what they would need to convince their brothers this had all been nothing but a dream.

And Celegorm wondered if he would wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Used prompts:  
Form/Genre: Suspense  
Theme: Power  
Story Element: A Hostile Enviroment  
Quotes: '... nothing could escape the sight and the scent ... nor could any enchantment stay him...' The Silmarillion  
Character groups: Feanorians  
Popular Characters: Celeborn  
Rare Characters: Denethor of the Laiquendi  
Event/Time Period: Celegorm and Curufin speak against Finrod  
Location: Walls of Night
> 
> I just really like a Celeborn who knows he can't actually stop them on his own, but tries whatever tricks (learned from whoever you like to imagine, though I actually like the idea of the Laiquendi trying to turn Morgoth's enchantments against him and piecing it together on their own) he can to try and make them see that this is all a mistake. He doesn’t actually want anyone to die.


End file.
